Family First
by Spinnerweb
Summary: After finding out they're not related by blood Nichol finds that he has feelings for Franca, but these become even harder to confess when another war breaks out.
1. The Beginning of the War

**(Author's note: Hey, remember Calm Before the Storm? This story has a similar premise, except it's about Nichol and Franca. Since this story has so much to do with Nichol and Franca's life after the civil war, I thought it'd make sense to post their epilogues here.**

_**Nichol's epilogue: After the end of the Gallian Civil War Nichol joined the army as a sniper to protect not only his sister but all of Gallia. His skill with a sniper rifle rivaled even Brixham's.**_

_**Franca's epilogue: After graduation, Franca enlisted in the military after Nichol and was given command of a squad, despite enlisting after her brother.)**_

When the civil war of EC 1937 ended, the Lanseal cadets, even though their education wasn't really complete, received their diplomas and were sent home. Many of them chose to enter a profession, but those with pushier parents had to complete, as in _really_ complete, their education first. Franca and Nichol were among those.

Franca felt it was unnecessarily humiliating. Most of the Class G students, even those a few years younger than her, had gone into professions. But when her parents told her their plans, she readily accepted, not because she really felt a need to complete her education, but to make sure Nichol completed his and was able to get into a decent profession.

Franca would disguise her protectiveness as she always had for her younger brother: by acting like a pressuring sibling, just like at Lanseal - even after she dropped her guard on this front once when rescuing Nichol.

Nichol accepted his parents' views simply because he couldn't face the embarassment of saying no. Even after fighting through a war and getting paise for his sniping skills (except, of course, by Franca) he lacked the confidence of giving his own views on any matter and simply agreed with whoever was speaking at the time.

He hadn't told anyone about it, but ever since learning that they weren't related by blood, he had started to feelings for Franca. He wouldn't have told anyone about this even if everyone didn't think they were siblings, and because everyone thought they did, and Franca thought he did, he found it even harder to tell her.

That was two years ago. During the spring of 1939, the Federation attempted skirmishes on its side of Gallia's border because most of Gallia's defence was concentrated towards the Empire, and in a few weeks these skirmishes developed into all-out war.

Their education was barely completed, when the Army came knocking at their door to scout Nichol again, the same way he ended up at Lanseal. Their parents talked it over with him that evening, with Franca sitting silently apart from them and maintaining an icy silence. Nichol was the only one who realized that the reason for her giving her parents the cold shoulder was that she hadn't approved when they let Nichol go to Lanseal either - she didn't want him put in danger. They had said she was sheltering him too much. They'd argued loudly about it for hours, and Nichol, who had been lurking outside listening to them shout, heard Franca say that she didn't want him shot at.

It had been a surprise finding out how much she cared about him. She'd always criticized him for, well. everything. Even things he did right; she'd say he could do them better. But the even bigger surprise was when he overheard his parents talk about it later and mentioned that Nichol wasn't really Franca's brother, though she still thought he was. In the end, Franca gave in and let her parents send Nichol off under the condition that she enrolled at Lanseal at well.

So now, while Nichol listened to his father lecturing him about one's duty to their country and the importance of patriotism, he wasn't all that surprised to see Franca so tight-lipped. Finally his parents turned to Franca.

"Don't think I have forgotten about you either, Franca," his father said (he, like Franca, had a stern nature), "Your silence this evening has spoken volumes. I know you disapprove of Nichol having to put his life in danger. But your brother can't live sheltered his whole life, and this is not his first exposure to war. Don't hold someone of his talent back."

For the first time that evening, Franca spoke, and her voice wasn't as strong as it always was. "If you insist... but I'm not letting him go by himself," then with an abrupt return to her usual nature, "or he'll slow his entire squad down."

"I'm surprised," said her father. "The last time we did this, you kept arguing for hours. Look on the bright side, Franca. Nichol might be in more danger there, but at least he'll have a splendid weapon to fight with."

At that the temperature in the room dropped three degrees, and Franca left without a word.

"I should go get ready then," Nichol said hurriedly and left as well.

That had been a few months ago. Nichol joined the army as a sniper and following his briefing about the areas they'd have to defend, Nichol was introduced to his squad's leader. The squad leader was a tall man with a goatee and shoulder length hair that looked like it had never been cut.

"I'm Imran," the leader said, shaking his hand like a thermometer. Clearly their energy levels didn't match. "What's your name?

"Nichol," he said quietly.

"Nichol Martin? I heard a lot about you from some students at Lanseal."

Nichol looked up in surprise. Could he get a good impressionhere, if those students had praised him?

"What did they say about me? Something about my sniping?"

"No," Imran said, looking amused. "Mostly they told me how you got shot thirty seconds into one of the Levatain prelims. Or how you got left behind in a battlefield when everyone went back and a whole class had to come rescue you. Or how your hair caught fire once." Imran went off into an alarming cackle of laughter.

"Oh," Nichol said. He had a feeling he knew who the students were, and sure enough two or three soldiers passed by who he recognized from Lanseal, led by Ricardo Kristenson who had been the class chair of Class A after Juliana died. Although they pretended to be passing by, Nichol felt what they were really trying to do was see how humiliated he was.

"Don't be depressed, I'm not here to remind you of your mess-ups," Imran said, thumping him on the back. "I'm sure you've got a lot of potential. Now get ready, we're throwing you into the middle of conflict tomorrow."

That was how Nichol got introduced. Franca joined the same squad as Nichol a few days later and got right around to telling Imran how much of a liability Nichol was. Imran thought otherwise.

"We've had him here for a while," Imran said, "and he seems pretty good. Don't you think you're being a little... _overprotective_ of him?"

In fact, that was what everyone's attitude towards Franca was at the start, but a few days in she proved that she was as good a soldier as Nichol if not better, so they allowed her her 'overprotectiveness' even though whenever she'd have Nichol stay behind they'd complain about how much that would affect them and every time Franca would point out, not altogether unfairly, that a sniper was the best kind of soldier to defend base camp.

On one of their night missions (which unluckily had a thunderstorm as well), Nichol was leaning against the sandbags around their base camp thinking how much more useful he could be if he was out in the field when he noticed that the 'distant gunshots', as he always thought of them, weren't really distant anymore. They were so close now that he could hear the shouts of the soldiers. They were being pushed back. Finally, he got to make himself useful. He put his sniper rifle over the sandbags and fired at the Federation soldiers when they came into view.

His sniping was so good that he surprised even himself. Although he couldn't take all the credit himself, the battle soon leveled as the Gallians stayed close to the base camp and waited to wipe out each group of Federation soldiers that came up. While one of the final groups of Federation soldiers moved out one of the Gallians yelled as he took a bullet to the leg. Everyone gathered around him and only Franca saw the camoflauged Federation sniper lying flat on the ground and taking aim at Nichol who had abandoned his cover.

She yelled and dragged him out of the way, just in time as the bullet whizzed past them. The sniper got up and fled and the Gallians went after him except Franca, who was still clutching Nichol, and Imran, who was looking after the soldier who'd been shot.

"What the heck were you thinking?" Franca shouted at Nichol.

"Hey, everyone makes a mista - " Imran began, but was interrupted.

"I told you he's no good when everyone's not babysitting him!" she yelled at him. "I told my parents _years _ago what a disgrace he is."

Luckily the others came back and told them the sniper had gotten away, otherwise she'd have gone on for hours. Although Franca didn't go on about it when they got back, she wasn't peaceful in her mind for a long time. The adrenaline that went through her when Nichol was in danger could power half the tanks in Gallia. She wasn't going to let him go through another war reliant on moments of good form or sparks or flashes of good luck to cover for a lack of experience. Although after cooling down she felt she could have let him escape the blame, the notion that even keeping him at the back of the field kept him safe was completely unconvincing.

**(A/N: Well that was pathetic. I really need to work on writing battle scenes.)**


	2. Royalty in the Army

Franca got up to an indistinct yet familiar shouting. "Oh, no," she said as she opened the door and the voice of Calvaro Rodriguez, their drill instructor at Lanseal, became clear, shouting at the sleepy soldiers as they got ready for the morning drills.

"Some of you maggots might remember me if you graduate from Lanseal," the drill instructor said.

"Difficult to forget," Nichol muttered.

At the end of the exhausting drills, Franca was walking back when Imran ran up to her and Nichol looking annoyed. Imran didn't have to do drills because he would be in the leader's room planning their advances for the day.

"There's someone here to see you two," he said, walking back to the leader's room with them.

Franca opened the door and saw there were already some people in the room - a man who looked to be in his fifties, Ricardo and to her surprise, Nahum Dryer, one of her and Nichol's classmate's at Lanseal.

As Franca, Nichol and Imran sat down the older man began speaking. "I would not have come here if it wasn't a matter of absolute necessity. I am sorry if this decision causes you any inconvenience, but first, I trust you know my nephew Nahum here?"

Franca nodded, Nichol muttered an almost indistinct, 'yes' and Ricardo said, "I've shot at him once or twice in drills." Nahum looked indignantly at the latter so the old man started speaking hurriedly again.

"I know this is a hard time for Gallia - yet another war. But things are not going well in the Kingdom of Dryer either. Nahum's father is a strong and just ruler, but some people oppose him and want to depose him in any way possible - most likely by murdering or imprisoning him - and put Nahum in his place. Nahum is young and has not learnt all the disciplines of being a ruler yet, and they wish to control Dryer by forcing Nahum to do as they command him to; they seek to become the indirect rulers of Dryer. But they will not dare depose Nahum's father unless they have Nahum captive ready for the throne, otherwise there would be anarchy in Dryer."

"So you want us to keep Nahum in Gallia so that the Dryeran revolutionaries can't find him?" Franca said, guessing at the rest of his plan.

The man nodded. "Exactly. Relations between Gallia and Dryer have always been friendly, and Nahum has fought alongside you before. There is no safer place for him. In return, Nahum will fight alongside you again."

"Don't know why you're offering that, Nahum must be a terrible soldier. That's why he's in Class G, that bunch of sore losers," Ricardo said, leaning back lazily.

"Shut up," Franca snapped. "Class G didn't choke in the Levatain finals like you did."

The digs they were having each other got more and more threatening until Nichol instinctively put a hand of Franca's arm to calm her down... and removed it as soon as he put it there, embarassed at the slightest contact between them and hoping no one else had seen his gesture. It didn't seem anyone had, not even Franca, but then again he wasn't looking up.

Nahum ended up in their squad that way. He was a mediocre soldier in the start, having been out of form for a while, and to top it off he was constantly demanding all sorts of luxuries that Gallian soldiers couldn't expect. He'd also have a habit of treating the male soldiers like servants and suddenly telling some of the female ones, Franca included, that he'd like to take them back to Dryer as his queens. The latter always refused.

Then on one of their three man scouting missions, Nichol, Imran and Nahum got stranded. Actually only Imran and Nichol were supposed to go and find the enemy positions in the forest they were in, but Imran insisted on bringing a shocktrooper along and (Nichol suspected) picked Nahum simply to annoy him. And it worked. In fact, Nahum was so frustrated at being brought on a scouting mission that he wouldn't stay hidden and even at night the Federation scouts spotted him and took up positions in the forest. The three of them fled and got lost.

"Now look what you did!" Imran hissed furiously, jabbing his finger in Nahum's chest.

"You're the one who wanted to take me along in the first place. And I won't stand for that kind of misbehaviour from the likes of you," Nahum said.

"Just be quieter now," Imran said. "You're making enough noise to wake the dead and we're already being hunted by those Feds."

They stayed where they were with their guns at the ready. Imran sat well away from Nahum, and Nahum was ignoring him too. Nichol, who was friendlier with Imran even though he'd known Nahum longer, settled down next to the former.

After a long silence Imran finally spoke, "I suppose they'll be out there searching for us by now."

"I hope so," Nichol said. "This wouldn't be the place I'd pick to stay the night."

"Why're you always so quiet around Franca?"

Nichol was surprised by this sudden question. "What do you mean?" he said.

"Well, come on. All the pressure she puts on you, and you're still like a mouse around her. I don't know how I'd put up with that. Besides, you both are so different. Sometimes I can't even believe you're siblings."

Nichol felt uneasy since he hadn't told anyone except Avan that they weren't siblings, but Imran wasn't the rumour-spreading type, so he decided to tell him. Haltingly, he told him how he'd overheard his parents saying they weren't real siblings, even though Franca thought of him as her brother.

Imran didn't say anything at the end.

" ... Did I just tell you too much?" Nichol asked.

"Uh, so what you're trying to tell me is that you're in love with your sister?" Imran said.

"Did you even listen?" Nichol said exasperatedly, half-annoyed that Imran was so blunt and half-hoping Imran would answer no even though it was a rhetorical question.

Imran was quiet again and then asked. "Does she know you're not related by blood?"

Nichol was regretting telling Imran even this much, but he decided to still be honest.

"No. I'm hoping I can prove myself to her and keep her safe, then I'll tell her," Nichol said.

"Well so far, neither of us two have been heroes much, you and me," Imran said. "In fact, I won't be surprised if Franca goes pro on me and becomes the leader. I wouldn't really mind, I'm only leading us now because there wasn't anyone else in the squad who wanted to do it."

Nichol got the idea that Imran was trying to change the subject and thankfully seized the opportunity. They spent a long time talking about who the new leader would be if Imran was demoted, who would be strict enough to become the drill instructor if Rodriguez left (both of them again thought it would be Franca) and how best to return Nahum to Dryer. They had an enjoyable time proposing absurd schemes on the latter subject.

"Finally!" Nahum said as the rumbling of an APC got closer. "It took them long enough. I will complain to my father about this," he got up, but Imran pulled him back into cover. "It could be a Federation APC, you idiot!" he said in a fierce whisper.

"Nichol!" came Franca's worried voice.

"I'm here," Nichol said, getting up.

"Then hurry up! The Feds could be anywhere."

They found their way to the APC and endured a lecture by Franca all the way back.

"Imran, that was really immature of you," she began.

"Me? What did I do? Nahum's the one who messed up," Imran said.

"And you took him along just to annoy him."

Imran didn't deny that.

Still, when they were back at camp and Nichol went to bed, a while later Franca came and hugged him. "I'm glad you didn't end up in pieces today," she whispered. Of course she thought he was asleep. When a stern person acts as human as everyone else it's because they think the only person within earshot isn't listening. Nichol felt happier though, while the warmth of her body stayed there. Then he finally dozed off.


	3. A New Leader

The next few weeks, they lost most of their battles miserably and were pushed back to the Daws Desert, which seemed to them was the hottest and driest place in the world. At night when the dust settled, it was beautiful especially when the stars came out, but in the day all of them hated it.

Franca had to struggle to remember how they ended up there, because the heat seemed to blank everything out of their minds and the only time they could think clearly was at night - even though the desert became bitterly cold then. Then their scouts got wind of another Federation squad moving towards them and they wearily started making preparations for the battle they knew would start the next day.

The people who lived in Daws who knew how many years ago were a warlike people, Nichol deduced. There were trenches dug hundreds of years ago that served as lines of defense, and raised points where, Nichol decided, archers were posted. Because snipers were basically archers of the modern times, Nichol was posted at one of these elevated positions. Franca was posted in the ruined temple where they had set up base camp, right in the middle of the desert, its crumbling walls providing inadequate cover for her.

There was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Imran, because everyone blamed his poor leadership for the battles they lost. Mutiny was imminent, and Imran said that this was his last fight as leader after which he'd step down and they'd choose one between themselves. Nahum, always the one who messed up, was instructed to stay in base camp until he was told otherwise and that, Franca decided, was the best place for him.

They stayed in their positions throughout the day; all of them cursing the waterless aridness of the desert. Finally something stirred on the horizon and three military vehicles bearing Federation colours came into view, raising up clouds of dust behind them. At the same time a breath of wind passed through the desert, shifting the sand.

"Oh, heck," Imran said aloud as a sandstorm started. By the time the Federation vehicles were within range they could barely see for the sand in their eyes. Besides that, all their bullets seemed to miss and their tanks couldn't fire because of the sand gone into them. The only time when their bullets actually hit someone was when they were not far from point-blank range.

The battle dragged on for hours, neither side getting the upper hand. Sometimes the sandstorm would stop for a few seconds and they could get in a few good shots, but most of the time they fired blindly. Finally a group of Federation commandos forced their way into the area where the temple-turned-base-camp was and started ascending the steps where the Gallian base camp was. Franca and the other soldiers were forced to keep ducking behind the sandbags they had set up as the Federation commandos sprayed their flamethrowers over them.

"Nichol, you idiot, the temple!" Imran shouted up at Nichol who had been idling in confusion from the storm. Nichol fumbled with his rifle and aimed towards where he thought the temple was, but he could barely see and missed all his shots.

Franca was lying down behind the sandbags when a grenade came over them. At least the Federation could throw grenades - they'd wasted all their own by now. Instinctively she hurled it back and the commandos scattered. One of them let out an angry shout when he saw one of his dead friends and charged over to the base camp without thinking. Nichol shot him in his flamethrower's fuel tank and it blew up, killing him. That was enough for the Federation to decide they weren't going to give up.

"The Federation's pulling back; I think we've won," Imran said with an uncharacteristic solemnity.

"That's not the usual way you celebrate when we win," Franca said, coming their direction with the other soldiers crowding around her and cheering for her. "You run around and whoop like a madman."

"Well, this is the last time I'm gonna lead, after all," Imran defended himself.

"Then make it worth remembering," Franca said and managed a small smile.

So Imran cheered loud enough for (Franca thought) the people in the Federation to hear him right over the border.

x x x

It is a sad fact, but the more one celebrates a moment, the quieter they are after it's over. Franca became the new leader, unsurprisingly, and such was her power, or spell, or both, over the squad that orders that if given by Imran would have probably caused a small-scale riot in the squad were carried out under her supervision without a word of protest. So anyway, their moment of celebration that had taken place less than a few hours ago seemed already to be years away. Although the base camp was full of soldiers, it was so quiet there might have been no one there at all. All of them were lost in their own thoughts; some thinking of their homes and families, some (Nichol included) thinking about the future, and some (mostly Imran, though he wouldn't admit it) wondering exactly how harsh Franca would be as leader.

Nichol's thoughts were interrupted by Franca who, amazingly, came dangerously close to praising him.

"If you hadn't taken that commando down, the Federation probably wouldn't have pulled back. Your performance was acceptable. Keep it up," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Nichol said, hanging his head down. When she became leader, Franca's drill-sergeant attitude towards Nichol had increased tenfold. He waited for her to go, then put a hand in his shirt and pulled out a medal: the Order of the Holy Bell. The only individual medal he'd ever won during his time at Lanseal. He'd kept it around him ever since Franca had refused to take it from him, hoping that when he finally proved himself to her, he could give it to her again... along with his feelings.


	4. Heated Argument

"Why did you have to step down, Imran?" Nichol asked tiredly as he and Imran struggled to keep awake while keeping watch over their base camp. It was about midnight, and Franca had ordered Nichol to keep watch - Imran, being the loyal friend he was, had volunteered to keep watch with Nichol, insisting that with two pairs of eyes they'd be safer.

"Well, if I'd known she'd grind us to the bone like this, I'd have shot myself before I stepped down," Imran answered wearily.

"You don't have to stay awake, she ordered only me to keep watch. You can go to sleep," Nichol said, though he was glad for Imran's company.

"I'm not leaving you out here by yourself, the Federation will think we set a rabbit to guard them," Imran joked. Nichol smiled in spite of his tiredness.

"And by the way," Imran said with a change of tone, "you remember when you told me - "

"That I'm in love with Franca, yes," Nichol said, completing Imran's sentence hastily. "Go on."

"Well, uh, to be blunt about it you should get a move on."

"What do you mean, is Nahum asking to make her his queen again?"

"Far worse than that," Imran said, taking a note out of his pocket and handing it to Nichol. "Ricardo asked me to give this to her."

"So you mean _he's _ now ... ?" Nichol said, reading the note. He only managed a few sentences before he tore it down the middle. "You're right, this is even worse than Nahum asking her out. Still, it's not like she's ever going to date Ricardo, she hates him."

"Aren't you innocent," Imran said. "Haven't you ever read any romance story? A guy loves a girl, she hates him, she realizes she loves him, and they end up together."

"What do you mean, you read romance stories?" Nichol said, spotting his chance. Imran averted his eyes.

"Of course I don't, everyone knows the basic idea of them - "

"Just admit it!" Nichol said with an uncharacteristic glee.

"Shut up," Imran said smilingly. There came a movement to their side and they both stiffened at once. Two soldiers came into view, apparently thinking they were not being watched. Strangely, they weren't wearing dark blue uniforms like the Federation but a mixture of red and yellow.

"Yes, the prince is in _this_ camp, and the squad leader's going to go wild when we bring him back," one of them said.

"Hey, you Federation scouts, I've got a sniper buddy here so put your guns down before he shoots you both," Imran said loudly. The soldiers looked at him, then at each other, and one of them laughed nastily.

"You think we're from the Federation?" he asked.

"Well, I did until you laughed like that," Imran said hesitantly.

"We're soldiers of the Dryer Revolutionary Army, and we're here because we know you Gallians have the Crown Prince Nahum in your custody," the soldier said.

"And he's staying there," Imran said, stalling for time as Nichol adjusted his aim. The soldier glared at him.

"We are fighting for a noble cause in our own country. It is none of your business. Give us the prince and we will harm no one," he said.

"Sorry, but your king told us not to. In fact, that's why we're stuck with your prince, he's a right pain in the neck," Imran said.

"Our 'king' has imposed his rule far too long. Our country needs a revolution. We are not impatient like you Gallians. Tomorrow we will be back with our whole squad, and we will see if you have reconsidered. If not, we will have to use force."

Saying this the soldiers retreated back into the darkness.

x x x

"They're coming for Nahum?" Franca asked. "Isn't fighting one army enough?"

It was about three in the morning and Franca, Nichol, Imran and Nahum were together in the squad leader's room.

"So what are we going to do?" questioned Nahum.

"Nahum, how strong is the Dryer Revolutionary Army?" Franca asked.

"Too strong for a small squad like us," Nahum said. "My father told me they've got as much artillery and tanks - they're importing those from the Empire - as the Dryer National Army itself."

Franca thought for a minute and said, "I'm going to have to send a message to the rest of the army."

By noon, they'd had their orders. The army would come in to defend the base camp (which, as Imran pointed out, proved that they took Nahum seriously.)

"And what'll we be doing?" Imran asked Franca.

"The army told us to stay out of the way and keep Nahum safe. Guess we all get a town leave," Franca said.

"Woo!" Imran said to Nichol as they went out of the leader's room. "We'll have a whole day to waste _and_ we'll be doing our job. All we have to do is keep an eye on Nahum." This would be, of course, easier said than done.

The entire squad was surprised to hear the sudden news of a town leave, but since town leaves were rare they took their chance. They'd be spending the day in Leiah, a small town quite some distance from their base camp.

x x x

Franca was on her way to the weapons locker to take her handgun (Nahum had pointed out that the Dryer soldiers might follow them to the market, and they weren't taking any chances) when Ricardo came in front of her, having gotten his own handgun.

"Hey, Franca," he said slightly awkwardly. "Did you get my note?"

"What note?" Franca asked.

"Ah, I should never have asked him..." said Ricardo to himself. "Anyway, it has to be extremely tiring, leading the whole squad, but I'm really impressed by how you manage."

"Thank you," Franca said, "but why are you telling me this?"

"Uh... these town leaves are pretty rare, and I know the reason goes deeper than simply you wanting us to have a day off so..." Ricardo stopped, then stumbling a little over his words he said,"I know this small place with really good food in Leiah, so do you want to come there with me?"

Franca started at his sudden question of a date, then, as Class A and Class G relations were as rivals on principle, she said, "No thanks."

"Come on, Franca," Ricardo insisted. "You're pushing yourself too hard and you deserve this time off more than we do. I know Class A and Class G never got on well, but we're not at Lanseal anymore. Please?"

Franca hadn't dated anyone at Lanseal, except for a couple of dates with Randy (one of which were ruined because Nichol had gotten lost in the old campus and she'd had to go look for him.) She knew her first choice for a date wouldn't have been Ricardo, but she reasoned that he might not be such a bad guy once she got to know him.

"Maybe, but I have to look after Nichol there too..." she said slowly.

"Nichol won't die if you have a bit of time to yourself, Franca," Ricardo said impatiently.

"All right," said Franca, making her mind up. "I'll meet you there."

x x x

"Have you ever been to Leiah before?" Imran asked Nichol as they walked through the market.

"No, but it's a really nice place," Nichol said, and he meant it. The people here were poor, but hospitable and happy, and the town itself was also beautiful.

"You haven't been here before? You've missed out!" Imran said exuberantly. "The food here is amazing; only my mother can make better food than the people here."

"Missing home?" Nichol said.

"Yeah, but never mind that. I'm going to have you try every food they have here before we go back," Imran said with a wave of his hand.

"I have to stay fit, Imran," Nichol said.

"Don't be a wet blanket, Nichol, we don't get leave often."

On the other side of the market, Franca, feeling slightly corny dressed up in any other clothes than her military ones that she'd gotten so used to, was looking for Ricardo. Finally spotting him dressed in a suit, she waved to him and he made a beeline for her, gave her a big and unexpected hug, and said, "Let's go, then."

"Ricardo, what's that you're wearing? You look ridiculous," she said, trying to be 'informal', but failing miserbaly.

"Say, Franca, have you ever dated anyone before?" Ricardo asked.

"I dated Randy once or twice," she said.

"Randy, the Student Council Vice-President?" Ricardo said. "He was one of the very few guys from Class G who had any decency."

"That's not nice," Franca said. Then quickly changing the subject before they went right back to bickering, she asked, "Did you ever date anyone before?"

"Honestly?" Ricardo said. "I came pretty close to asking Juliana, and I thought she had the same feelings for me - I found out she didn't in the end though, and then," he paused suddenly, as if finding it a bit hard to speak, "and then of course, she died. Poor girl."

"She was a very brave person," Franca agreed. "So, tell me any story about you and the rest of Class A..."

x x x

"Hey look, it's Nahum," Imran said as he spotted Nahum in one of the food shops. "Hey, Nahum!" he called. Nahum turned and greeted him.

"Great food, huh?" Imran said.

"It is fit for a future king such as myself," Nahum said. "This is just like old times, isn't it Nichol?"

"What do you mean?" Nichol asked.

"I mean, when you and I were at Lanseal, and our class would go on town leaves once a month," Nahum said. "That was wartime too, but even so it was a good academic year I spent there. Your country excels in the education department."

"Uh... thanks," Nichol said.

"Oh, Franca's there too," Imran said, gesturing to the inside of the shop. Then he spotted the person sitting across her the same moment Nichol did. "Oh, heck..." It was Ricardo. Nichol felt an anger he didn't know he was capable of.

"Did you give her that stupid note?" Nichol demanded of Imran.

"No, I didn't, he must have ... " Imran began, but Nichol pushed past him before he completed the sentence. Walking over to the table, Nichol glanced at Franca and then asked Ricardo shortly, "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here? It's none of your business, Nichol," Franca intervened.

"Stay out of this," Nichol said.

"No, I won't. What's your problem?" Franca said, standing up.

"Why is he here?" Nichol asked again, poiting at Ricardo's face but not looking at him.

"Mind your own business," Ricardo said, standing up heatedly as well.

"This is like a comedy," Imran sighed to Nahum, who nodded. "I'll go help him," Imran said, walking until he was beside Nichol.

"Don't gang up on him," Imran said.

"What's wrong with you, Nichol?" Franca said.

"Why are you with him?" Nichol asked, finally starting to comprehend as his anger started fading.

"I can do what I want, what do you have against it?"

Nichol knew when he was beaten. He spun around and walked out, everyone watching him. Franca gave Imran and Ricardo one last glare before she walked out of the shop as well and started in the opposite direction, pushing past a surprised Nahum. Imran left as well to go after Nichol. Ricardo stayed there, an ugly look on his face.

Franca walked back to their military vehicle at the edge of town and sat down on the back of it. She wondered why Nichol had acted like that. What did it matter to him who she went out with?

Nichol was far less measured in his reaction. He went to a quieter part of town, with Imran following him.

"Don't worry about - " Imran began, but Nichol ignored him and pulled out his medal he had meant to give to Franca.

"Wow, is that an Order of the Holy Bell?" Imran said. Nichol again said nothing, but threw the medal on the ground, pulled out his gun and shot it so that it shattered into pieces.

"Was there something special about that medal, Nichol?" Imran asked after a stunned pause.

"No," Nichol said. "It was just a medal."


	5. Home

Nichol spent hours rehearsing how he was going to encounter all of Franca's possible scoldings, but he hadn't been prepared for her to give him the cold shoulder. When they got into the military truck to go back to base camp, Franca didn't even look at him. It wasn't what he'd expected, but at least he wouldn't have to waste words.

Franca was actually not speaking to him because she was on the verge of tears. She had given up a lot of joys in her life just to look after Nichol and make him into a man, and he had always taken it for granted. She thought he understood that she was so harsh with him because she cared about him, but the way he had acted back in the town proved that he didn't, that he took her care for granted. She wondered how she would feel if Nichol had dated a girl. Indifferent, maybe. She could be indifferent to a lot of things. They were siblings ... not real siblings, but Nichol didn't know that ... but that didn't justify that Nichol walk in on her and Ricardo and start shouting the place down like some forceful older brother. Ricardo wasn't her first choice for a boyfriend, but then again, she hadn't got to know him properly.

As the truck moved, Franca's thoughts drifted to memories of the Levatain Cup final. One of the very few happy days in her life. It was so dramatic towards the end... Ricardo had had a brain-freeze and Avan had taken the opportunity to shoot Juliana who'd been shouting at Ricardo to cover her; it was probably the worst ever choke in Class A's history. But Ricardo had shot Nichol point blank in the face because Nichol was looking through his scope and had a crazily altered field of vision.

Nichol had been a hindrance then, and he was being problematic even now.

_Why won't he grow up?_ she thought.

At the base camp, her mood worsened as she took a report from one of the soldiers about how the battle went.

"I'm afraid it's not good," the soldier said, rubbing his forehead where there was a graze. "We managed to hold them off, but we lost many men. I think keeping the Prince of Dryer on the battlefield is a bad choice."

"So what do you want me to do?" Franca said.

"The king of Dryer sent us an envoy with a proposal that you withdraw him from the front lines - and withdraw yourself. You are acquainted with him, right? You can keep him hidden at your house... and visit your family into the bargain."

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely until further orders are given."

Franca felt torn. She wanted to be with her parents so badly it hurt, but, "Who'll lead the squad?" she asked.

"I'll do it, I'm a compulsive volunteer," Imran said, putting his hand on her shoulder. She wrenched her arm away from him. She hated him too, for taking Nichol's side. But he was the best choice, so she nodded jerkily and walked away.

So it was all settled, and Franca couldn't help but feel happy for once in a while that she'd see her parents again. She wouldn't call what she suffered homesickness - but it did feel like a departure from normalcy, not seeing her parents for so long.

The night before she was to leave, Ricardo came up to her and said, "Can I talk to you somewhere more private?"

Franca nodded and they walked a little away from the base camp. Once they were some distance away, Ricardo took her hand.

"Your brother's an idiot," he said flatly.

"Is that all you had to say?" Franca said. Familial defense overpowered temporary dislike for her still.

"Maybe, but I thought we could finish our date," Ricardo said, and pulled her close to him. She pushed him away.

"Don't do that," she said. "I barely even know you."

Ricardo looked annoyed. "I didn't think you were a Nichol kind of personality," he said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"That people like him act like they're shy as hell, and always keep their head down like a dog about to get beat..."

"Shut UP!" Franca said, shouting the last word.

"Oh, so you still love your brother though you never get to enjoy anything because of him..."

"If you're this kind of person, I'm glad our date fell apart," Franca said. Ricardo made a face.

"You're more childish than I thought," Franca said and walked back to base camp briskly.

"Hey, was it fun when I always shot your brother during drills?" Ricardo called after her. She didn't reply.

Two days later, Franca, Nichol and Nahum were standing outside Franca and Nichol's house. Franca's mother came out almost before they rung the doobell and instantly pulled Franca into a bone-crushing hug.

"It's been really long since we saw you," she said.

"Hi, Mom," Franca said in a muffled voice.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Better than most people," Franca said and dropped her bags in the corridor while Nichol and Nahum followed inside.

"Are you the Prince?" Franca's mother said, sizing Nahum up. "You're not at all what I imagined."

"Sorry if she's a little blunt," Franca said to Nahum quietly while her mother went to tell her father. She hadn't even looked at Nichol.

That night, Franca's mother made a feast 'fit for a prince,' as Nahum put it. Franca's mother and father repeatedly congratulated her on becoming a squad leader and said they knew she would make them proud, but apart froma few greetings they hadn't talked to Nichol.

"So you're living with us now, are you?" Franca's father said to Nahum.

"Yes, temporarily," Nahum nodded.

"Keeping royalty safe is a huge responsibilty to place on young shoulders, but I knew my daughter was up to it!" Franca's father said proudly.

"Can I be excused, sir?" Nichol said. One thing he'd felt depressed about since childhood was that Franca got to call her parents 'Mom' and 'Dad' while he was taught to say 'sir' and 'ma'am'; he knew now the reason was that they weren't his real parents but it didn't make it any easier.

"Go ahead," his father said, and Nichol left with his food untouched. Franca frowned but said nothing.

It was eleven o'clock but Franca couldn't fall asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she heard Ricardo talking about Nichol in a derogatory way, and each time it made her angry. It didn't help that the power was cut (the electricity was being rationed in war-time) and mosquitoes were biting her as if her blood was the last meal of their life.

Finally she got up and on the floor near the window, leaning against the wall. There weren't as many mosquitoes there and there was a breeze to make it better.

Someone shifted on the other side of the wall - it was Nichol's room. Nichol was apparently doing the same thing as her.

"You didn't eat," Franca stated plainly.

"I wasn't hungry," Nichol said after a pause.

"There's nothing to be jealous about if our parents were fussing over me."

"Easy for you to say," came the reply after a long pause that indicated Nichol would prefer not to reply at all.

"You know, if I was on the same side of the wall as you, you'd never talk back to me."

"I'm sorry I ruined your date."

Franca said, "You should be," but her voice softened a little. At least he was sorry about it.

There was silence for a while after that.

"Are you and Ricardo still together?"

Franca sighed. "No."

Nichol didn't say anything, but the atmosphere seemed to lighten considerably. Sometimes words weren't needed.

The electricity mercifully came back and the fan turned on.

"Goodnight, Franca," Nichol said, and she heard him get up and get into his bed.

She was silent for a little while, then said, "Goodnight, Nichol." She was starting to feel sorry for him. She wouldn't like it either if her parents wholly ignored her.

And she was to blame for that.

It couldn't be called 'her' fault; she had been a kid. But whenever she remembered, the guilt bit into her. She'd caused her parents to be less considerate towards Nichol.

_It was 1921 and Franca was waiting for her father to come home from the Gallia-Empire border where he'd been posting. Finally she heard the door open._

_"Daddy!" she said, running to meet him. He ruffled her hair, but his eyes didn't smile with his mouth. He was worried, and though she was a kid she knew something was wrong. He went over to her mother and talked to her in a hushed voice._

_"Franca," he said. "I'm bringing a little brother for you."_

_She was surprised, then in her childish enthusiasm, said, "I don't want a brother! I want a sister!"_

_"You'll have to make do with a brother. Don't argue, now," her father said._

_And just like that, Nichol came into her life forever._

_Her father told her, when she was older, that a man whose name was also Martin, had been a scout at the Gallia-Empire border. His wife had died while giving birth to Nichol and Martin had died of sickness soon after that - he stopped caring about life after the love of his life died and he seemed to blame the child for that. When he had died, Franca's father, who wanted a son too, had offered to take care of him. Nichol's surname was Martin after his father, not Franca's._

The two years after Nichol came into her family were the worst in Franca's life. Her parents pampered Nichol and pandered to his every need while she was the forgotten child - so she made them change their attitude by transforming from the world's most hyperactive child into the quietest. She stopped coming when they called, didn't talk to her family and walked away whenever her parents hugged Nichol.

It worked. From then on, they always gave her preference. She'd changed her entire family's nature including her own.

She wondered, if she hadn't been so mean as a child, would her family be different? Would Nichol be more confident? Would she be stuck with a life she didn't want? Or would she be happy in the long run? She couldn't tell, and every time she thought of staring down her demons and apologizing to Nichol, she couldn't find the courage. The only thing she could do to make amends was make sure Nichol was always all right.


	6. Betrayal

The next morning, neither Franca nor Nichol mentioned their conversation the previous night, but the atmosphere was definitely lighter.

There was a surprise for Franca in the evening.

"Franca, there's someone on the phone asking for you," her mother said.

Franca hesitated, expecting it was a soldier telling her to return to the front lines, which she didn't feel like right now. She wanted to stay home for a while. Finally she took the phone.

"Franca?" an instantly familiar voice asked.

"Randy," Franca said, barely holding her joy back, "how are you?"

"I'm all right. It's good to know you're still living."

"Yes, I'm on leave for a while. What are you doing?"

"I was applying for a job in politics, but with this war that's not going to happen right now, so I joined Squad 6 as an engineer," Randy said. "I'm on leave as well and I'm living pretty close to you, so if you want can I meet you sometime?"

"I'll ask my parents about it," Franca said.

"Who is it?" Franca's mother asked.

Franca put her hand over the phone and answered, "Randy Hamsun. Remember him? The person I told you about in my letters from Lanseal."

Her mother's face brightened instantly. "Ah, nice boy, I remember him from you letters."

"Well, he wants to go out with me sometime - "

"A date?"

"I'm old enough, Mom. Almost too old, really - "

"Yes, yes, I'm just surprised because you never dated anyone before," her mother said. "You didn't have a near-death experience on the battlefield to make you finally decide to start living, did you?"

Franca smiled. "I guess that means I can go. Thanks."

That evening, Franca and Randy walked back together to her house.

"I had a great time today. It's really good to see you after so long," Franca said.

"Thanks," Randy said as they stopped in front of her door. "Well, bye."

"Bye," Franca said, but as she turned around Randy pulled her back and joined his lips with her. Unlike how she reacted with Ricardo, she closed her eyes and returned the kiss - her first kiss ever, now she came to think of it. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer - not like Ricardo had done, but with genuine feelings. Randy may have done some unadmirable things to be liked and to become Student Council President back at Lanseal, but he really did care about her. She twisted a bit of his hair around her finger and pulled on it, letting it slide between her fingers when they broke apart.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"Anytime you like," she said, a little breathless. "My parents love you."

He smiled. "I haven't met them."

"You can, right now," she said. "It's not like any of us have a lot to do."

Franca's parents were happy to meet Randy ("as well-mannered and gentlemanly as Franca told us in her letters", Franca's mother had said in front of Randy, causing Franca to turn red), but Nichol was surprised at best. Franca had no qualms telling Randy that Nahum was staying with them, and Randy and Nahum had met and talked like only two people who have been through a very difficult time together can do.

Nichol had always admired Randy, but he hadn't been happy to learn that Franca was dating him again, so while he exchanged pleasantries with him like everyone else he wasn't as enthusiastic to talk to him.

Randy had left, and without him around Franca had an uncomfortable feeling. During her date she had noticed a suspicious looking individual following them around. He had been dirty and anti-social, answering none of the friendly greetings people gave him. She hadn't thought anything of it then, she didn't want to ruin her date, but now an unnerving thought came into her head that he could be a spy.

A noise outside, like someone had tripped, made her completely alert and she stepped outside her room. Nichol heard it too and stepped out of his room, but Franca put her finger over her lips and said, "Don't turn on the lights. And stay here."

She went out of the house - her parents were still asleep - and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could see that someone was definitely there. A sudden movement on her right made her react fast; she grabbed the person's arm and twisted it so that he was facing away from her, and used her free hand to hold his other arm.

"Who are you?" she said fiercely. She could see that it was the same person who had been following her and Randy around.

"I'm nobody," he said. "Let me - "

He didn't complete his sentence because she drew him back and smashed his head into the wall.

"You've been following me around the whole day, haven't you?"

"All right, all right. I'm a scout."

"From where?"

"Dryer."

"Go on."

He didn't answer, so she hit his head again.

"They sent me to confirm if the Prince is here..."

In her surprise she loosened her hold on him and he took advantage of this. Wrenching his arm free he kicked her in the stomach and ran off. She gasped in pain and dropped to the ground, but as soon as the pain became bearable she ran after him. It wasn't any good. He had had too big a head start.

One thing was sure, that someone had told them Nahum was here. One of their own people.

"So? It doesn't matter. You didn't tell him I was here," Nahum said when Franca told everyone what happened, the next morning. "They're still not sure."

"No, they'll send more people to check it out now," Franca said. "We can't keep you here. Really, you're more trouble than you're worth. And I still don't know who told them. I can't believe someone would..."

"Maybe it was Randy," Nichol said quietly, still bitter at Randy as he was.

"Shut up!" Franca said, raising her voice. "Don't be stupid, all right? He didn't even know Nahum was here when that person was following us around. And he's been through a lot with us, he wouldn't betray us. I'm ashamed you'd even suggest such a thing."

"It was just a thought. Sorry, Franca."

"Well, I guess one things for sure, we're sitting ducks here so we should just get back to the front lines. I'll tell the army. Mom won't be happy," Franca said, ignoring Nichol.

Everything had gone horrendously wrong. And just when she and Randy had started meeting each other again, it had all messed up.

_I'll probably never have one perfect date in my life._

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter isn't very satisfying, but I've been suffering either from writer's block or something very similar.**


	7. Defeat

As soon as Franca came back to their squad's base camp, one of the soldiers saw her and ran right toward her, saying, "Did you hear what happened?"

"No," Franca said, annoyed. "I just got here."

"Ricardo Kristenson's gone AWOL."

"What?" Franca said in surprise. "When?"

"Four days ago."

Franca felt a twinge of uneasiness. Could Ricardo be the one who told on Nahum's location?

_No,_ she decided. _He might be an idiot, but he's not that much of an idiot. _Still, it was awfully suspicious. Ricardo was one of their best soldiers, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She wouldn't have picked him out as a coward.

"Where was he last time you knew his location?"

"With a reconaissance squad. He was left to guard one of their temporary base camps. When the scouts returned he wasn't there."

"Weren't there _any_ other shocktroopers with him?" she said.

The soldier looked ashamed. "We're having to spread our men very thin because the Federation army outnumbers us so much. A lot of our shocktroopers are unskilled so we usually send them in pairs, but Kristenson was a better shocktrooper so we thought he could handle it."

"Any signs of where he went... or was taken?"

"None."

"I want to see Imran," Franca said suddenly. "Tell him to come to my office."

x x x

Imran opened the office door without knocking, to further Franca's annoyance. He sat on the chair facing her and swung his legs onto the table, then took them off when he realized that his shoes were almost right in her face.

"So, what is it?" he asked nonchalantly, leaning back on his chair.

"I thought that after leading this squad you'd have a little more sense," she said icily.

"What?"

She slammed her fist on the table. "You idiot! Four whole days and you haven't even done a search and rescue! Do I have to do _everything_ around here?"

"Ohhhhh..." Imran said as comprehension dawned on him. "I thought I was supposed to do something like that. I've never done a search and rescue before. Or had to do. Besides, the guy was nothing but trouble. He's good riddance."

"No he isn't. You know what happened a few days ago? I found a Dryeran scout, right on top of us when we thought we had Nahum safe from being discovered! Can't you watch your men a little more closely?" she said, her temper rising by the second.

"So you think... he's responsible for that? It could be by chance. I mean, I think everyone in Dryer would know what Nahum looks like..."

"Anyway, what did the reconaissance squads report?"

"Two Federation squads are closing in on us ... you know, one of those pincer tactics or something. They should be here by the day after tomorrow."

Franca opened her mouth, closed it again, took a deep breath, and then shouted as loudly as possible.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS BEFORE?"

"Uh..."

x x x

Nichol supposed that if a shocktrooper would have been in his place, he wouldn't have had the patience to last half an hour. He was lying flat on a low rise in the ground, camoflauged and waiting for the Federation scouts to come. There were other snipers too, he supposed, but Franca hadn't even allowed them to tell their locations to each other. After the snipers, who would intercept the scouts, the shocktroopers had set up sandbags and other cover to intercept the armoured techs and the enemy shocktroopers. The lancers were on the far left and right of them, ready to move behind the enemy tanks and destroy their radiators.

"How come you're sure we're in a better position?" Imran asked Franca.

"The attacking side always comes out worse," she said, "You should know after being commander for so long."

Imran looked back over his gun's sights. "I'll keep that in mind."

But when the attack started, the Federation soldiers acted surprisingly on the defensive as well. After they lost their scouts, their shocktroopers stayed behind. Both sides spent a long time at a stalemate, trying to see which side would lose its patience first.

Perhaps Franca, after being out of the field for a little while, had lost her touch. She was the one who cracked first, playing right into the enemy's hands.

"We're wasting ammo here," she said, not even bothering to yell because gunfire was so few and far between. "Let's mmove in on them ourselves."

"But you said the attacking side - " Imran began.

"Shut up and move!" she said. "And Nahum, defend base camp."

It took them about five minutes into their attack to realize their mistake. The Federation soldiers forced them back to where they had started, now clearly dominating.

"Get back to base camp," Franca ordered Imran. "Back Nahum up. If we lose base camp we're finished."

After a while, Imran radioed her. "I'm here, but Nahum's gone. Damn! Why couldn't we have remembered the Dryeran rebels were with the Feds? This is all your fault. They got him easily while we were getting beat up by the Feds; why'd you pick him for base camp when he can't even handle a gun?"

For perhaps the second time in her life, after Lanseal had been destroyed, Franca felt like they'd truly lost. Her gun slipped in her hands and she realized she was trembling. With what, she didn't know. Frustration, rage or defeat; maybe all three. A bullet hit her shoulder and she fell over the sandbags.

"Send a message to the archduchess," she gasped painfully into the radio. "Tell her to send squads to every harbour they could have gone to. There's nothing more important than this. If they get Nahum back we'll lose Dryer's support."

"Right."

Another voice, a younger one, came through the radio.

"Franca... are you hurt?" Nichol asked, worry in every syllable.

"I'm fine, stay where you are," she said.

"Where are you? I'm coming."

"Damn, Nichol!" she yelled. "You idiot, I told you I'm fine. Stay where it's safe."

Her vision blurred, went dark and she didn't remember anything after that except the sound of gunfire, becoming more and more distant as her consciousness slipped away.

x x x

"So, you went in and saved me yourself?" Franca said, sitting up on her bed in the infirmary. Nichol was sitting on a chair next to her, looking at anything but her.

"... Yes."

"Don't you realize the danger you put yourself in?" she said harshly. "I told you what to do. Never do that again. It's better for me to die than - " her breath caught and she managed to pull herself together before she finished her sentence. He got the gist.

"You're talking like I don't care about you," he said quietly.

She turned away from him. "I don't want you to care about me. I don't even want you to be here. You're nothing but a drag." He got up quietly and left. She closed her eyes and felt a tear flow down her face. Even defending their base camp didn't seem like a win. They'd failed to protect Nahum, and her little brother had to put himself in danger because of her mistake. She truly felt defeated.


End file.
